


The Law of Attraction

by angel_with_a_scythe



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Developing Relationship, High School, M/M, Manipulation, Sass, Teacher/Student, brujay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6519328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_with_a_scythe/pseuds/angel_with_a_scythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce begrudgingly agrees to step in as the physics teacher at a private school as a favor for Clark, where he begins to realize one particular student may have more to teach the teacher, than the teacher to the student. A fire ignites that hasn't been lit in a very long time, causing him to question his own morality and falter in his otherwise perfect control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Law of Attraction

"The Law of Attraction"

 **Title:** The Law of Attraction - Chapter 1  
 **Word Count:** 6k+  
 **Characters/Pairing:** Bruce/Jason, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick, Barry, Oliver, Diana, Lois, Clark, n' such  
 **Rating/Warnings:** M, Alternate Universe. Developing relationship. Sass. Manipulation. Mentions of abusive environments in later chapters. Will be very mature in later chapters. Not your average High School AU, I hope. Can't think of any triggers yet, but will be noted if they come up.  
 **Summary:** Bruce begrudgingly agrees to step in as the physics teacher at a private school as a favor for Clark, where he begins to realize one particular student may have more to teach the teacher, than the teacher to the student. A fire ignites that hasn't been lit in a very long time, causing him to question his own morality and falter in his otherwise perfect control.  
 **Notes:**  ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY [TUMBLR](bruce-and-jason.tumblr.com). Character ages meshed closer together for cohesive time lines(i.e. Dick and Jason are about the same age). I don't know a thing about physics. It has been a long time since I have written and I apologize ahead of time for being so rusty. I do not have an editor and I have limited time, but I've tried hard to make sure things are edited. I am human, however, so please forgive me if I have missed a few things. When copying, there seems to be some weird glitch that has deleted random words from my story... =_= I don't really know what to do to fix it, but I will do my best to find them all.

* * *

Bruce couldn't remember the last time he had set foot in a school, but it was definitely as uncomfortable as he imagined it would be when he was first called about an open position. Of course, that was not to say that he had been looking for a job, not at all, but he somehow got roped into this situation anyways. Yep. Here he was in a high school, uncomfortably pretending to be interested in the newspaper in his lap while he waited for the principle. Sitting in a plush wing back chair, however expensive, was not doing anything to alleviate his annoyance at having to wait considering he was the one doing the favor.

The room around him was immaculate, as if someone had pulled the waiting room right out of a magazine. He had to admire its aesthetics, although he thought it was a bit intimidating to anyone who might be coming in... Perhaps that was the intention, for as he sat there stealing glances at his watch, he could hear muffled voices behind the principle's door. He recognized a voice, stern and with a definite undertone of struggle and strained patience, but it was cut off with a string of curses and a rising volume that made Bruce look up from his paper directly at the mahogany door. Beyond was a foreign land he wasn't sure he wanted to step into, and this was a shining example of why. The swearing continued, though lowered into a hush with a rummage and shuffle and suddenly the door was open and Bruce stood by reflex. The principle's face was wrinkled with hopelessness, looking at him apologetically as the student slung his backpack over one shoulder and flicked his hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. As he watched the kid storm off, he wanted to sigh aloud but he kept his face neutral and turned to the older man.

"Clark."

"Bruce, yes, please come in. Sorry about that..."

"I'm sure you're used to that by now," he joked, picking up his briefcase.

"Yes, actually. At least once a week."

Wonderful. It was a big school, though, so he could imagine just as much. "Right. I forget how big this place has gotten since when you first started working here." It looked as if Clark wanted to say something to him but decided against it and closed the door behind them as Bruce settled in. The seat was still warm from the previous guest, which meant they were both here for a while before he'd even arrived on campus. Now that he thought of it, the hours were a bit odd... It was well after classes had ended, though he supposed there would be clubs and things after hours in private schools like these.

"Thank you for coming," Clark said, jarring him from his thoughts. "It really means a lot to me."

"I know." Clark gave him a weary look. "I owe you one... A big one... It's about time I repaid you anyways."

The dark haired man frowned, as if he was hoping his friend would do this willingly. He should have known better by now. He sighed and sat back in his chair across the desk, staring at Bruce as if he didn't really know what to say for a moment.

"I know you're above teaching-"

"I never said that."

"...okay..."

Bruce was toying with him, he just couldn't help it. "When we heard that our physics professor broke his leg, I think I had a small panic attack," he said with a nervous laugh. "After all, how can someone find a capable teacher on such notice?" Clark sure had a way with going on and on, though he supposed that was the 'correct' social behavior to do in this kind of situation. He wasn't very good at sincere interactions since most of his were forced with businessmen and the like, but the few true friends he did have were well aware of his more withdrawn persona. "There is no one that could be better than you for this job."

He stared at Clark for a moment, letting himself relax a little into the chair, reminding himself that this was his friend, not someone he needed to watch his back with. "It's fine," he assured, giving him a half smile.

"The curriculum is already mapped out and I sent you an e-mail for the resources you may need to reference." Bruce opened his mouth to retort but Clark cut him off quickly. "Not everyone is as smart as you! So... it's just a reference to which parts you're teaching. It's all there, I promise. I made it as easy as I could for your transition."

Leave it to Clark.

They sat and chatted for a while before they both packed up and walked out together. The atmosphere had lightened substantially as Clark threw an arm around his shoulders and excitedly told him about the place they were going to eat. To better prepare Bruce, they had decided dinner was a nice time to go over staff, expectations, and other issues that Bruce would be unfamiliar with.

At the end of the day, his agitation with the situation had eased and he felt more in control of himself and the position he'd be assuming. However, he had a feeling that tomorrow would be the longest day of his life.

* * *

The next day came too quickly, and though Bruce had prepared as much as he could, he still didn't really know what to expect. Nevertheless, he walked confidently into the classroom and immediately surveyed the situation. Most kids were already there, it seemed, talking amongst themselves as they waited for the bell to ring. Conversation, however, died down considerably once he walked in and immediately went to work unloading his briefcase, grabbing some chalk-yes, Clark liked his traditional nuances, didn't he-and sweeping it across the dark green, scratchy board as he started to write. The powdery chalk created small tufts of dust that fell to the ground in wisps. He could feel the dryness of it as he breathed in through his nose, and the occasional squeak from the friction made him want to wince. He licked his lips, noting his throat was already becoming parched, and he was certain it was this board. _Note to self, start bringing chapstick... And make Clark install whiteboards._

The students started chattering again, and the rest of the kids trickled in as the bell finally rang. He'd gone over an outline of the curriculum in his head over and over, as if he could ever forget a detail in his life. If anything, he'd like much more to be able to blank things out than to remember everything so vividly. Even he still got nervous sometimes. Pulling a handkerchief from his breast pocket, he wiped white streaks onto the soft fabric, cleaning each finger individually as he turned. He had allowed a little extra time for the rest of the group to trickle in. He wanted to make sure they all got a nice, long lasting first impression. Dropping the handkerchief, Bruce slapped his hands together and brushed off the remaining dust, jolting the attention of the students to him.

He fixed the class with a hard stare until the chatter ceased and he gave just a hint of a smile, his eyes serious and intense going from one student's face to the next. Once he was satisfied, he spoke.

"Good morning. As the board reads, you may refer to me as 'Mr. Wayne' and I will be your physics professor indefinitely until your previous teacher can return to full duty with no restrictions. In this time, I will enforce classroom rules as I see fit wi-"

The door squeaked open loudly and in walked another student, ten minutes late and incredibly too calm about it. His backpack was slung casually over one shoulder, clothes tousled and wrinkled in some spots, and his hair was a disheveled mess of black and...white? Yes, it was indeed a white stripe through his bangs. Bruce was _not_ amused. The kid hardly even acknowledged him, walking straight to his spot in the back corner by the window and plopping down without so much as an apology or explanation. He suddenly realized that this was the boy from Clark's office...

"...This brings us to rule number one. Do _not_ be late to my class. I am not here for you to waste my time, and you _will_ be given detention if you are not here by the ring of the bell. No exceptions." There were a few groans and huffs as students shifted in their seats uncomfortably. "You will sign in every morning on a sheet of paper that I will hand out at the beginning of class," he continued, starting a slow pace across the front of the classroom and watching the reactions of the students. "And don't try to sign for someone else. By the end of this class I will know each and every one of you, and I do not tolerate lying, either. If you fall behind in my lesson because you are distracted, feel free to impose on someone else for the material as I do not enjoy repeating myself. If you have a question, ask it. If you need to use the restroom, do it before class. The seats you are sitting in have officially become your assigned seat for the rest of the quarter."

The students stared at him with thinly veiled horror, and he couldn't really blame them as he was probably one of the most strict teachers they'd probably ever have. He liked his routine, he liked being methodical, and he was short in temperament. It would be much easier for the students to follow him instead of trying to fight him.

"Do as I say, and this class will be very easy for you. It's easier to go with me than against me." He made it a point to look right at the student who was late.

And he wasn't even paying attention... That kid was staring right out the window as if he wasn't even in class at all, a million miles away somewhere else, probably in his own personal hell, Bruce suspected. He grit his teeth with irritation, but continued on with his introduction and rules, eyes occasionally flitting back over to the student in the corner to gauge his personality. He could tell that this one would be the challenge for him, but what should he expect from someone who was just in the principles office swearing at his superior? He looked towards him again, thinking on how unappreciative these kids were to have this kind of education at their fingertips when there were so many kids that could only wish for such an opportunity.

Great. Here he was doing a favor for Clark and he already felt irritated and under appreciated within the first thirty minutes of class. Marvelous start. He made a mental note to inquire on the student later.

"Please raise your hand as I call your name and notate your position within the classroom," he said, pulling a pen from inside his suit jacket and with a click, began the checklist.

With each name he called, he memorized each face, attaching with it something akin to a log of stats that would be filed away in his mind for each individual student of first impressions, clothing choice, body posture, even the minor differences each student pronounced their greeting. He could decipher a lot about a person just by looking at them, noticing fine details that most people overlooked or would never even think to notice.

"Richard Grayson?"

The student in question raised a hand and beamed a smile with an energetic "Present!"

"But we all call him Dick," said a female student with a shy smile towards Grayson. Dick waved at her in thanks. Modest.

"Thank you," Bruce said, brushing it off, continuing down the list of names. He found himself wondering which of these names the boy in the corner would answer to. Would he even answer at all? He'd find out soon enough.

There was something off about the boy. No one really seemed to acknowledge him, and if they did they looked or leaned away to carefully avoid him. Judging by what he'd already seen, this was just another loner, a typically misunderstood kid who had a story just like everyone else, just with an extra chip on his shoulder that others didn't. Still, that kid really rubbed him the wrong way and it made him clench his jaw just remembering his flippant attitude when he waltzed in late. He let his eyes float over to him again.

He was carving something into the desk...

Nope. This kid was just a degenerate piece of crap slacker that was going to be a pain in his ass, wasn't he?

"Jason Todd"

"That's me." Ah, so this was the name of his trouble child. Jason leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, locking eyes with Bruce. Closed off body language... intense blue eyes that had seen too much...

The tension was palpable in the room as he took an extra moment to look the boy over to let him know he wasn't playing games and that he would not be taking any kind of crap. The other students seemed paralyzed, fear blatant on their faces. The heavy stillness in the room was satisfying for Bruce, but to his surprise Jason seemed unfazed. There were not many who had held gaze with him so steadily and not buckled from discomfort.

And suddenly he was on to the next name and the moment had passed. The class slowly relaxed while he finished the role call, and he set the papers down and moved to rest on his desk, relaxing his posture a bit and beginning the lesson.

"From what I've gathered, all of you have progressed past classical mechanics of physics as well as atmospheric, biophysical, etcetera, etcetera. The Earth stuff. Next, we will be venturing outside of our little bubble into astrophysics and apply some of the things you've been learning such as relativity, quantum and thermodynamics, and even some theoretical physics into the vast emptiness of space."

The class pulled notebooks and pencils out of their satchels, immediately at attention and ready. As he turned, however, he noted again that Jason seemed uninterested, pushing his pencil around on his desk and watching it roll back to him. Bruce pursed his lips, but pushed on, lifting his hand to the green board and beginning his lesson.

Once it started, the class seemed to fly by, and he actually found himself enjoying it a little. It was kind of nice passing on his knowledge to the next generation, seeing some enthralled by it with passion lighting in their eyes, soaking up the information piece by piece. Before he knew it, it was already time for the class to leave and he was assigning reading and homework. And then he was alone. It felt almost strange.

With a break between now and his AP class, he'd have a little time to organize his thoughts and work. He finally allowed himself to sit in the plush chair at his desk, sighing with a relief of the tension he had been holding in him all morning. After a moment of settling, he pulled a key from his briefcase which was supposed to give him access to this desk's locked drawers. The lock opened smoothly, and the drawers slid out easily. Among the drawers there were extra supplies, some notes from the previous teacher, some lessons plans and work sheets, and finally the filing system he'd been searching for. Every student was listed alphabetically, and he let the tips of his fingers feather over the tabs until he found the file he wanted and plopped it on the desk.

"Richard Grayson," Bruce muttered to himself, flipping through some of the pages. As expected, Dick had high marks on everything with rarely a falter. With the amount of extra credit he also had stacked up, he could probably fail the next two major tests and still have an A. "Of course," he said with a twitch of an amused smile tugging at his lips. There was also a list of his classes and the clubs he was associated with and, not surprisingly, he was enrolled in advanced classes, was captain of the gymnastics team and was also captain of the track and field team. Pleased with this information, he tucked everything neatly back into its folder and placed it back into the filing cabinet.

Next, the rough-around-the-edges Mr. Todd. He wasn't sure what he would find in there other than bad grades and a serious detention record, but he couldn't help feeling curious about him. The file was surprisingly thin. In fact, there really wasn't much on the boy at all. He peeled through the papers carefully, letting his gaze drift over the markings.

Bruce's eyes widened as he came to a crisp piece of paper, fingers tightening in disbelief. Jason had perfect marks on every single assignment, test, and quiz. Not just perfect, but according to this paper, not a single question had been missed on anything.

"What..." he found himself saying aloud. He'd never been more perplexed.

* * *

Lunch couldn't have come soon enough. Dealing with young teens was proving to be somewhat taxing on his patience and he was glad to finally be among fellow adults in the teacher's lounge. A few of them he'd met before, but the ones he didn't gladly introduced themselves and made sure he had everything he needed. Diana and Lois he'd met many times with Clark before, one being his wife and the other one of his closest friends. The others he'd heard things about over dinner, but he was only now putting faces to the names. All of them welcomed him with open arms, thrusting their hands out in greeting and then settling back into their chairs. They were so accommodating it actually made him slightly uncomfortable. He was not a man that became close to others easily, and though he put on a smile, his guard was up. Clark was missing, he noted with displeasure. It would have been nice if Clark could have done all the talking for him.

_I guess I'll have to fend for myself..._

"Bruce, what a pleasure it is to have you here," one of his coworkers gushed. "I cannot believe Clark knows someone like you. It's such a small world."

This small talk was already excruciating. He should have expected this.

"Well, no offense," another said, fixing his eyes on Bruce, "but aren't you a multimillionaire? Why are you here?"

"Ollie," hissed one of the males. They both had blonde hair and looked like they could be brothers, but he had a feeling they weren't related in the slightest. One was the Physical Education teacher, if he remembered correctly, and the other was teaching Chemistry. "It's none of our business."

"Well, we were all thinking it, Barry, let's be honest." He shrugged it off, stuffing a fork full of food into his mouth. He didn't really want to answer, but he put on his business face to remain professional.

"I always have trusted associates running my company." His voice was deep, holding a weight that was final and nonchalant simultaneously.

Silence fell over the room, everyone staring at Bruce in anticipation and dying for more information they soon realized wouldn't come. The awkwardness didn't bother Bruce, in fact he found it quite amusing as he stabbed his fork into his salad. Barry quickly changed the subject.

"So, have the students acclimated well? Are you getting the hang of things?"

"Yes."

They seemed to get the idea that he wasn't much of a talker.

"Well, just let us know if you have any questions. We're glad to help." Murmurs of agreement and nodding heads with assuring smiles filled the room. They spoke among themselves like they'd been friends for years, and it went on like that for some time until something finally caught his attention.

"Well, just ignore Jason then. It seems to be the best course of action. Don't let him get under your skin... You really need to pick and choose your battles, and that is one battle that no one can win. Do yourself a favor and just keep going."

Jackpot.

"What happened?"

Everyone stopped and looked at Bruce, shocked to hear him speak.

"Well... Clark told you about Jason didn't he?" The slightly raised eyebrow he gave Barry was enough for them to understand. "He really should have told you. What was he thinking?!" A rumble of groans circled around the table.

"To be honest," Diana said, "nobody really knows that much about him." She seemed genuinely concerned, looking thoughtfully at her food. "He keeps to himself, and the students don't dare talk to him. They're scared of him."

"And why is that?" Bruce was unfazed, though even more curious than he'd been before.

"Well," Ollie took over. "There was a rumor going around that he killed someone. The kid's strong enough. You should see him in weight training."

"It's just a rumor!" Barry chimed, pulling Bruce's attention back toward him. "In any case, he is not friendly to the students or staff. One of our former teachers transferred to another school because of him. He likes to do things his way, and we've all come to realize that it's best to leave him alone and just forget about it."

These were some of the brightest, most knowledgeable and highly trained professors in all of the country and they were put off by some kid?

"I know it sounds... Strange." Diana looked at Bruce with a half smile, her eyes conveying far more seriousness than her words. "But it's true. He doesn't like help, he has no respect for any of his peers, and he couldn't care less about this place."

"Then why is he here?" Bruce sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest and fixing Diana with an almost irritated gaze.

"We don't know, he just kind of... Showed up."

Things just kept getting stranger and stranger. "You're telling me you have no record of his parents or family? No friends?"

No one answered. There was nothing they could say, he realized. They really, truly knew nothing about this boy.

"Ah, I've got to get going," Diana said suddenly, looking at her watch. Lunch was almost over and he really hadn't gotten any additional information that would help him understand what was going on.

If no one could help him, he had his own ways of making things happen.

* * *

Jason sat outside on a table, his lunch sitting half-eaten at his side as he leaned back on his hands and let the wind tousle and move through his hair. Another boring day, but at least the sky was blue. The sun felt warm on his face, and he closed his eyes and sunk into his senses. He could hear people in soccer practice, a shrill but distant whistle marking the end of a play, loud voices diffused on the wind and muffled by the sound of cars passing and leaves rustling. He could hear the chain link fence rattling, the ground crunching beneath the feet of people walking by, birds chirping loudly and the smell of freshly cut grass stung his nose as he inhaled deeply, with just a hint of tar from the construction a few blocks away. Even the wood beneath his fingertips was soft and sanded, topped with a perfect coat of smooth white paint.

"Jason!"

He opened his eyes slowly and pushed himself up, leaning forward onto his knees and looking at the fellow student approaching. The only student _stupid_ enough to approach, actually. Dick Grayson. The goody-two-shoe perfect child of Elite High that didn't know how to take a hint.

"You looked so peaceful!"

"Yes, it was a nice day until you showed up."

Dick frowned, but like always he kept pushing. "Look, there's a big get together happening for the seniors at the end of the year, and I'd really like you to be a part of it."

"No."

"You don't even know what it is yet!" Dick whined, putting his hands on his hips. "It's not like I'm asking you to go to a dance. It's the fun part. It's the senior prank."

"...I'm listening."

Dick visibly brightened and took a few more steps forward. "Ok, so we want to fill the pool with soap-"

"Stop."

"But-"

"That's child's play. It's not a prank unless someone gets hurt or something is destroyed, and honestly, the janitor is the one who has to clean that shit up, so you're really only messing with one person. Rookie mistake."

"I think that is the most you've ever said to me in the whole time I've known you."

Was it worth getting detention again to punch Dick in the face?

Yes.

"Wait!" Ah, Dick knew him better than he gave him credit for. "Help me out, then. Give me something to work with, and you can be the one to light the torch." Jason raised a brow. "Figuratively speaking."

As tempting as destroying the school sounded, he didn't exactly want to spend time with any of the people in it to do so. Decisions, decisions.

"Beat it, square. I'm not interested."

Dick sighed loudly as the bell rang and gave him one lasting look before turning to head off. Jason watched his retreating back for a moment before sliding off the table and dumping the rest of his lunch into the garbage can and following suit. Clouds drifted in the sky, covering the sun and casting a long shadow over the school as he pulled the door open and stepped into the hall way.

* * *

The next day, Jason poured into the classroom with everyone else, finding his usual seat in the back, setting his backpack on the desk, and then leaning back with his hands behind his head. He let his eyes dance across the board as the new teacher began to write, watching his movements closely. He looked slightly more casual today, his suit jacket hanging neatly on a coat rack leaving the class to view a perfectly pressed white shirt tucked carefully underneath a fitted dark gray vest that matched his slacks. Jason wrinkled his nose a little. No one was perfect, but this guy sure liked to portray himself that way to others, didn't he?

Without the jacket, he saw that there was more to this man than he thought, and he had to admit that he was not expecting the muscles that were pulling the fabric taught around his biceps and chest. The man obviously lifted some weights as well. He thought he would see a beer gut and flabby arms, maybe some ready-to-pop trousers struggling to keep a fat rich guy in them... But not this. This was a whole different ball game.

But so what. The guy was rich, he probably had a personal trainer and a butler that made him perfectly balanced nutritional meals every day.

Yes, Jason knew exactly who Bruce Wayne was, and he was not so naive as to think that a teacher with the same last name wasn't related to the infamous Wayne family. Millions upon millions of dollars invested all over the world, but most notably the charity work that was done by the Wayne Foundation was what the family was most remembered for. Though, if he remembered correctly, that was when his father ran the place, so who knows what it was these days. Jason knew that corruption ran deep when money was involved, so he wouldn't be surprised if the charity was more of a front to direct the eye elsewhere. What the guy was doing here teaching a private high school physics class, he had no idea, but he supposed someone as rich as he could do as little or as much as he pleased.

As the lesson started, he half-listened. It was more like a refresher than an actual class for him. They all passed their homework up, per the teacher's request, and once the papers were in his hands, they began to review the questions, tying the concepts into the next section of their lesson.

"Quantum Physics is small, and I mean really, really small. We're talking about atomic and subatomic levels. We seek to limit variables to systems that are discreet and distinct. For example, we're all familiar with electromagnetic radiation and we will be looking at the particular formulas to 'quantize' these at given frequencies to a specific integer. This is where we will start. To do this, we must have an integer multiple of hv, where v is the frequency and h is, what?"

Very few students raised their hands, though of course Grayson had to be one of them. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Jason."

An electric shock pulsed through his system as his brain registered that the teacher was speaking to him. His eyes shot up to meet the older man's and from his peripheral vision, he saw students turning to look at him. There was a challenge in Wayne's eyes that Jason had never seen from anyone before and it made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stick. Careful to guard his emotions, he answered just to spite him, never breaking eye contact with him.

"Planck's constant."

"Correct," he said, without missing a beat.

The entire class was staring at Jason, astonished. He hated it. He maintained a bored facade, but inside he was a seething mass of anger that was beginning to fester because of this teacher. He knew the students at this school did not think highly of him, and he wanted to keep it that way. The less they knew, the better, and the easier it would be slip away. Bruce knew... Somehow he knew that Jason was a lot smarter than he pretended to be, and that really rubbed him the wrong way. When he really thought about it, it was probably incredibly easy for this new teacher to reach his stubby fingers into any file of his choosing, but why he had taken an interest in Jason was beyond him.

But now he had taken an interest as well. If this man truly wanted to play a game, he would give him the time of his life and he would make sure it hurt.

For the entirety of the class, Jason's eyes never left Bruce, and to his growing annoyance, the teacher didn't so much as glance his way even once. When class finally ended, he had to force himself to release the tension that was coiling inside his muscles, taking a steady breath and reminding himself that he had other things to do. He snatched up his backpack by one strap, slung it over his shoulder, and whisked out of the class without looking back.

* * *

Lunch was uneventful, and this time he was not pestered by the Grayson kid, much to his delight. Perhaps the kid had finally taken the hint to leave him a lone, that he was not interested in school spirit, and that he was certainly not interested in spending any 'quality time' with the rest of the student body.

The sun was a little too bright today, too warm, and causing a thin sheen of sweat to dew at his brow. He picked a rotten day to wear black. Seeking the cool air inside the building, Jason made his way back, pulling the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the moisture from his face and neck while he swung the door open.

Once inside, his eyes were met with a peculiar sight. Grayson and the new sub teacher were embracing, with the older man's arm around his shoulders. Jason's nose wrinkled in disgust. Great, the new teacher was a pervert and Grayson was sucking up to him like a calf to it's mother's teat. The sight made him sick, really. When they slipped around the corner, he made a gagging noise at the two for his own amusement. Perhaps he could use this information later as blackmail, he pondered, tilting his head slightly as he walked down the long, polished wooden floor of the hallway. He shoved his hands into his pockets, letting his feet take him to his next class at a leisurely pace. Maybe he'd skip.

He sighed and scratched his cheek, turning towards the entrance of the school. Skipping sounded nice. This whole place was a joke, and everyone in it. He couldn't wait to be free. The lectures were boring, the information was rarely something he didn't know, and the only thing he really enjoyed was his weight training class. No one bothered him, especially after they saw how much he could lift, how much he could move, and just how much muscle was hidden beneath his clothing. He was not afraid to be naked in the locker room. While everyone else was shying away, holding their towels tight around their hips, he had no qualms standing around in his birthday suit. He was confident in his own skin.

"Where do you think you're going? Classes are starting."

Jason whipped his head around, brow furrowed with irritation as he fixated the teacher with a glare. This guy, again? Mr. Wayne stared him down from the other end of the hallway and slowly the corner of Jason's mouth twitched up into a smirk. He gave a purposeful shrug, locking eyes with him.

"Classes are starting," Wayne repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"I heard you the first time, grandpa. Thought you didn't like repeating yourself." He saw a flash of surprise and irritation cross the older man's eyes. This guy had no idea what he was getting into if he thought he could boss Jason around. He'd get the message that he wasn't someone to mess with soon enough. They all did.

"Then get moving," the teacher commanded, voice low and gravely. Jason raised a brow, amused.

"Naw, I think I'll pass."

And that's all he said, turning his back on him and walking right out the front door. Mr. Wayne didn't try to stop him, but Jason had a strange feeling in his gut. It was exhilaration he hadn't felt it in so long that the feeling bubbled up and made him laugh aloud as he practically skipped down the street. There was something about this new teacher that made him different from the rest, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it yet. It wasn't his status or power. Yes, Jason knew exactly who Bruce Wayne was, but it made not a bit of difference. If anything, it explained why the man thought he could boss other people around and get them to do as he liked. He was sure the other teachers at the school were already eating out of the palm of his hand, grasping for the chance to stand in his shadow like moths drawn to a flame.

If nothing else, this man would prove to be a fun addition to his school life. He would enjoy tearing the man apart, piece by tiny piece, until he, like everyone else, bowed down to him.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Thank you for reading. I hope that there is enough intrigue and tension here to make you want to read more! I found notes for this fanfic when I was moving out of my apartment and I couldn't believe I'd forgotten about it. I haven't written in quite some time, so I hope things are cohesive and mesh well together. Please let me know what you think, if I should continue, add more, if I should throw it out, if I should simply disappear into the shadows from whence I came, etc. Haha. Thank you!


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